Loop the Loop
by Alsaurus Rex
Summary: "Rodney's broken heart brought out about a hundred different emotions in John, but the most powerful reaction seemed to be the need to feed his friend the most delicious, fattening, cholesterol nightmare of a cheeseburger that he had ever tasted." One man's quest to comfort a friend. And maybe himself, just a little. Written for the McShep Match 2012, Team Time.


_Oh, don't you think  
That people are the strangest things?  
Design of desire means all that the heart requires  
Is what it can't recognize._

-

John Sheppard had always loved vacations. He enjoyed going to exotic places and doing exciting things, though it had been several years since he'd had the opportunity (for obvious reasons).

So when Woolsey announced that the plan for a permanent colony in the Pegasus Galaxy had finally been fully and officially approved after a year of preparations, and that they could all take a much deserved leave of several weeks before liftoff, John was surprised by his desire to stay at home, alone, and do absolutely nothing.

Later he thought that maybe he'd had a stroke of premonition, and had simply wanted to be where he could be found. In case... _someone_ wanted to find him.

He wasn't alone for very long. Only two days had gone by when his doorbell rang.

-

"So I hear we're taking Atlantis back to Pegasus."

John's feet were on the coffee table, his lips against the mouth of a beer as he said this. Casual, cool. Like it was a bit of gossip he'd heard.

Rodney was quiet on his end of the couch. John figured he knew why - he'd guessed the reason for this visit the moment he'd opened the door to find McKay's fake, uncertain smile. But he wanted to hear it. So he invited the man in, got him a drink, and engaged in small talk for a few minutes to ease him into it. Didn't want to spook him.

"Yeah, you got that memo?" Rodney said.

The sarcasm was practically dripping from his body. John, vaguely aware that he was possibly losing his mind, imagined he could see little droplets of it making stains on his couch. They didn't have a color, they were just Rodney. Little pieces of Rodney that were now forever part of John's apartment. Although nowadays he could hardly call the place home.

Suddenly he was struck with dread:

"Wait, you are coming home with us, right?" he choked out, then cleared his throat.

He hadn't considered asking this question. What if he'd read it all wrong? What if things were great and perfect and beautiful on Earth; what if McKay was tired of living under constant mortal peril, and his discomfort at the moment was not for himself, but for _John_? Was he wondering how to break the news to his best friend that he was staying on Earth, getting a normal job, starting a _family_...?

John would have been impressed with his ability to not hyperventilate, if not for his years of practice in the art of hiding.

"Jennifer and I are over. I mean, it's over. We're done," Rodney said by way of an answer.

John felt the fear leave him more quickly than it had come, only to be replaced by a miniature dancing John Sheppard waving a giant foam "Number 1" finger. Disturbingly, his joyous inner self had perfect dance moves and flat hair, which told John more than he wanted to know about his subconscious.

"What happened?" was all he could think to say.

This news was what John had guessed when he'd seen Rodney's face, but now that he'd been proven right, he felt like an asshole. Logically he knew he had no reason to feel so guilty - wishful thinking didn't make things real.

-

From what Rodney told him, he imagined it like this:

"I won't. Stop, I know what you're about to say. We can't make it work. You'll stay with Atlantis forever -"

"Now wait a minute -"

"No, stop. It's okay. You'll stay with Atlantis because that's your home now. Teyla and Ronon and John, they're your family now. I understand that. But I can't leave my Earth family, not this time. I'm sorry Rodney. I've already made up my mind."

Or maybe:

"Rodney, I want to stay on Earth."

"I don't think I'll be able to convince John to stay here... And I love Atlantis! And space. Not the Wraith, but c'est la vie."

"So are you staying with me or not?"

"Are you out of your tiny little mind?! Goodbye, Jennifer, I'm going to stay with John. I'll miss you -"

Or maybe not.

-

After Rodney told John all about his oh-so-tragic breakup, they went out to dinner at John's favorite burger joint.

Rodney's broken heart brought out about a hundred different emotions in John, but the most powerful reaction seemed to be the need to feed his friend the most delicious, fattening, cholesterol nightmare of a cheeseburger that he had ever tasted.

So when silence fell and Rodney seemed to be finished telling his story, John did what any friend would do.

"Come on, get your ass up. We're going out to eat," he said as he stood up and brushed himself off.

Rodney opened his mouth to speak, and John interrupted: "My treat! Not taking no for an answer."

The man needed little convincing when it came to food. Soon they were settled in a comfortable booth in the back section of Burger Train. Rodney was simultaneously horrified by the name, enticed by the smells, and distracted by the railroad-themed memorabilia on the walls. Success.

John allowed himself one pathetic moment of pride over being better girlfriend material than Keller. Then he reminded himself that he liked Jennifer, and she was probably an awesome girlfriend, and it was luck and outer space logistics that had brought Rodney back to him.

When their order arrived, John had a difficult time figuring out how to fit the monstrosity of a cheeseburger into his mouth. Meanwhile Rodney was wolfing his meal down and already had house-made burger sauce dripping down his chin.

John tried not to stare. A whole year of watching Rodney so frustratingly belong to someone else had made him unstable, he thought. He'd been so alone in his hopeless longing and so angry at the unworthiness of the relationship swallowing up Rodney's attention.

And now it was over, and Rodney was his again - or as "his" as Rodney ever would be - and it was like the strings holding John upright had been cut. He felt unhinged. And hungry; so hungry for more of his best friend than he could ever have, even now.

Rodney noticed that John wasn't eating, but he barely paused as he asked around a mouthful of food, "What?"

John mentally shook himself back to reality and smirked.

"You're disgusting, McKay," he said, and handed him a napkin.

And before Rodney could complain, he asked, "So, do you want to stay here until it's time to ship out?"

Rodney finally put down his food and cleaned his face, scowling.

"I don't know, will I be _annoying_ you the whole time? Because I've had enough criticism this year to last me for -"

"You don't annoy me," John interrupted quickly, wiping the scowl off Rodney's face.

"Oh. Well, um, I don't want to impose... Or mess up your plans," Rodney added, looking unsure but very much like he wanted to say yes.

"I don't have any plans. But we can make some. I'm sure we can find plenty of fun stuff to do," John offered, trying to sweeten the deal.

"You'll make it good for me, you mean?" Now Rodney was smirking.

John's heart was racing and suddenly he wasn't so sure that this was a good idea, but no way was he going to back out now.

"Yes, Rodney. The best you've ever had," he replied, very smoothly. "So what do you say, buddy? There are a million good restaurants around here, we could try a new one every day."

Rodney held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay, you've convinced me. I guess I can stay, if you really want me around so badly," he joked, his crooked grin a mile wide.

Oh, if he only knew.

-

John had always known, on some level, that he was different. It wasn't anything that specifically set him apart in any significant way. Rather, he just had always had this vague feeling of "otherness".

In his family, at college, in the military - he never met anyone he felt really comfortable with. He liked everyone and they liked him, but he only let them in so far. It wasn't like he thought he was better than any of them - just the opposite, actually. Life seemed to be a game, a never-ending competition, pushing and pulling and climbing to the top of this ladder or that; and he didn't like the idea of not measuring up. Not when he was so painfully aware that no one ever put all their cards on the table. Anybody could be hiding anything in their hand, good or bad.

So not only did he try to shield himself, he never tried to pry deeper into anyone else. He couldn't imagine that the effort of "getting to know" someone could ever be worth what he'd discover. Then there was also no guarantee that the other person would like what they found in him, either.

And he supposed, deep down, he feared no one would ever be able to understand him. Not for lack of trying or because they were too stupid, but simply because he believed himself flawed. He couldn't shake the suspicion that it shouldn't all be so scary to him; normal people dealt with it just fine - making connections and feeling fulfilled. Or at least they seemed to. And he wasn't at all convinced that he, himself, was capable of it.

He didn't want to be proven right, so his only other option was leaving the fear untested.

It was just so much easier to glide through life, his looks and his charm and his intelligence carrying him along. He fed his soul not with companionship but in the clouds, at high speeds, with the joy of flight. Flying had been all he needed.

Even the knowledge of the Stargates, and the Ancients, and of the millions of humans out amongst the stars didn't make him feel any more connected to his peers from Earth. If anything it made his "otherness" feel more like "nothingness" in comparison.

Still he tried to be worthy of the privilege and responsibility that had virtually fallen into his lap. By virtue of incredible luck and genetic happenstance, he was given an opportunity, and he knew that it was all thanks to Elizabeth Weir rather than any merit of his own. So he'd tried to do his best by her. Even though he'd known deeper into the souls of drinking buddies than he ever learned of her, he'd felt more connected to Elizabeth than any woman he'd ever known, apart from Teyla.

Teyla was another story entirely. Her strength had become his own, and someday maybe he would tell her that he never would have been able to do any of this without her. The same was true for Ronon, who was now more his brother than David had ever really been.

Yet it was Rodney - arrogant, loud, _brilliant_ Rodney McKay - who made him start to believe that maybe, just maybe he could do this. And then, as the years went by and Rodney grew on him like a fungus, "maybe I can do this" became a ridiculous notion because _yes_, of course he could do this. He'd been _doing this_ for so long that he couldn't remember when it had started. Try as he might, he could never pinpoint that exact moment when he finally - amazingly, against all expectations - fell in love.

Rodney was so open, so easy to read. John always knew exactly where he stood with him. He didn't have to play games, or put on a front, or even censor himself. (Heaven knew that _Rodney_ never felt the need to censor himself.) Dealing with Rodney could be frustrating, but it was simple. Uncomplicated. And no matter how they argued or annoyed each other, it always turned out okay because Rodney didn't hold grudges - not with people he respected. John had no idea what he'd done to earn that respect, but he was grateful to be one of the chosen few.

If John had to choose one thing, summed up in one word, that he appreciated most about Rodney, he would probably say it was that he was _pure_. His anger, his excitement, his elation, his opinion, his disappointment, his pride... It was always pure, unadulterated, and unconcerned with the rules about how people "should" be. This honesty and passion had thrown John off at first, but eventually, somehow, he became addicted to it.

Every time that someone mentioned Rodney's poor social skills, John had to suppress a smile. In the private universe of his mind he'd come to interpret "bad with people" as "made for me".

-

On the way home they talked about Pegasus.

"You do want to go back, right?"

"Don't be stupid."

"I just mean that none of us have to go."

"So I could ask you the same thing. Are YOU sure you want to go back?"

"..."

"Exactly."

"...Earth is too big."

"Or not big enough."

"Yeah. Or that."

-

John made it his mission to keep Rodney entertained.

They went to the movies two afternoons in a row. Rodney loved movie theater popcorn and John loved watching Rodney eat it.

He didn't watch much of the films. He just tried to memorize everything about the moment: the feeling of the sticky armrest against his forearm; the condensation from his giant Mountain Dew making his palm wet every time he took a sip; the vibrations of the surround sound through his seat; Rodney's salty fingers dipping in and out of the popcorn bowl in his lap; brushing up against Rodney surreptitiously as he reached across to steal a couple bites; Rodney trying to conceal his annoyance and failing.

"Should have gotten your own, you deranged popcorn thief! Look at you, you don't even have any shame!" he whispered.

John laughed loud enough to earn a few glares from the row in front of them.

"Sorry," John whispered back to Rodney, pointedly ignoring the other movie-goers. He took another handful of buttery kernels and shoved them into his mouth, his head tipped back.

Rodney, seemingly pacified, only rolled his eyes and kept his hold on the container. He let John continue, but he never offered to move the popcorn closer.

-

John's apartment had served him well, all those years ago, and he'd liked it so much that he'd decided to just rent it out while he was off in another galaxy. But now that he was leaving for good, he figured he should just give it to his brother. And maybe if he could convince Dave that what he was doing was important, he'd be able to justify never coming back home.

(Getting security clearance for a family member was a lot easier than John had always thought, but he tried not to think about that too much.)

"I'll be gone for a while this time, Dave."

"This time? I haven't seen you in over a year. Don't even get me started on before that. Sorry if I'm not surprised."

"Yeah well, this time is... Different."

"...How so?"

"For starters, I'm not sure I'll be coming back at all."

"Jesus Christ, John, what are you talking about?"

"It's a long story. But I've got you cleared to hear it, I mean, if you want."

"Has it been declassified?"

"You would already know about it, trust me. No, just you. You can't tell anyone - no exceptions."

"Fine, let's hear it."

"Well I'm warning you now - this is going to make me sound crazy. But I have my commander ready to back me up if you don't believe me. Not to mention Rodney -"

"The guy out there?"

"... Yeah."

"... I thought you were with the dreadlocked guy?"

"I - I'm not WITH anyone. You know I'm -"

"Okay, okay, forget I mentioned it. Start with your story, then."

-

John's brother ended up believing him about the Stargate program and agreeing to take care of the apartment after they left for Pegasus. It was a tough sell but after an hour he figured "there is no way John could make all that shit up". Which was an enormous relief for John, who was terrified of having to bring Rodney in to verify, lest his brother say something to out him completely. He'd always meant well, and John could see that now. It didn't make things better but it was a start.

For the moment, though, he wanted to keep his time on Earth with Rodney as close to his chest as possible.

-

Living in the same space as Rodney felt somehow scandalously dangerous, like sleeping next to a raging fire or playing hide and seek with a hungry lion.

John knew that his feelings were too close to the surface. He knew that he shouldn't watch Rodney pour his cereal at breakfast like it was his own perverted version of Saturday morning cartoons. He knew that he should be careful with his words, that he should ease up on the teasing which Rodney had to know was flirting. Rodney must have been able to see it all written across his face every night after dinner and a couple beers, when they were both tired but neither wanted to call it a day. It had to be so obvious, the way John's eyes lingered and his voice trailed off every time they said good night. He felt like he must be visibly pulsating with the desire to be closer to Rodney, to drink his fill of him.

But Rodney never seemed to notice, and John trusted himself to keep it under control.

"He's here, that's enough; it's fine, I can do this," he told himself.

Later John would laugh out loud when he remembered it.

-

The first and probably last time John tried to kiss Rodney, it happened before he even had time to notice. He wasn't expecting his body to so gravely betray him.

Rodney had been staying with him for a week. A week and two days after getting dumped by Jennifer, in fact. (Yeah, Rodney had flown in to see John the day after. The day after. See if that didn't give John any pause).

They were in the kitchen. John was trying to make lunch but Rodney was melancholy, his heartbroken self-criticism testing John's self-control.

If he had to listen to one more word about how much better a man Jennifer Keller deserved, he might snap, he thought. He might go insane. He might do something drastic; he could do the unthinkable; he would shut Rodney up and make him forget all about that silly woman once and for all.

John didn't mean to do it; he wasn't even aware of his descent upon Rodney's face until their lips were mere inches apart, and Rodney's gasp of surprise snapped him out of his trance.

He froze, terrified and unable to believe his sheer stupidity. Years of steely self-discipline and careful, casual smiles; countless movies watched with careful distance kept; hundreds of conversations almost honest and never, never crossing the line... Here he was. Making a move by _accident_. It was reckless and sloppy - completely unworthy of the sort of airman he'd known he'd have to become, all those years ago, to reach his dreams of flight.

Rodney pulled away, his hands rising to grasp at the front of John's shirt, his eyes wide and glistening.

John swallowed a bit loudly and nodded.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," he muttered, trying to disengage and retreat.

But McKay only kept his hold on the bunched up fabric in his fist. It was the only contact between them, but John felt him everywhere.

McKay seemed to want to make sure that he was keeping eye contact. (Not that John could have looked away now if he tried).

"I'm not ready for that," Rodney said slowly, letting the implication click into place in John's brain before moving his hand to John's shoulder and squeezing slightly. He put his hand back at his side.

John's gaze followed that hand, and then he looked at the gap between their bodies. Barely an arm's length, but the space that separated them felt like the distance between two galaxies. He wondered which of them was Pegasus and which was the Milky Way.

"Thank you," Rodney said then, which didn't make much sense to John, though his brain was still focused on 'I'm not ready for that'. It was ringing out in his head like warning bells. But as they silently set the table, it was the unspoken 'yet' at the end that turned the bells softer.

And as they ate lunch and Rodney wondered aloud why John didn't have any ketchup, for Christ's sake, John felt a smile tug at his lips as a crazed, helpless sort of hope blossomed in his chest and the warning bells turned into wind chimes.

-

Now that they were each certain that the other was definitely going back to Atlantis, they stopped talking about it. They stopped talking about work, about wormholes, about the Wraith. Not even about Puddle Jumpers. (And definitely, thankfully, not about Keller. John wasn't sure if Rodney was truly moving on or had just bought a clue after the almost-kiss, but he didn't really want to know).

They went to the driving range and hit some golf balls into grass instead of water, and it was Rodney who suggested John should play a full game now while he had the chance.

John's grin was uncontrollable by this point after days of manly yet unbearably friendly amusement. Just the day before they had ridden the Ferris wheel at the county fair, in a seat just for the two of them. Alone with Rodney on top of the world, he had been so content that he was sure it couldn't get better than that. He had been proven wrong at dinner watching Rodney berate the waiter about the lemon slice in his water, and again today trying to teach a grumbling Rodney how to hit a golf ball farther than ten feet away.

However... He didn't want to drag Rodney around for 18 holes of bitching and moaning, and he was riding high on a wave of infatuation and anticipation so sweet he almost wished it would last forever, so he offered mini-golf as a compromise.

They went to Monster Golf downtown, an indoor course with Halloween-inspired obstacles and dimly lit with glow-in-the-dark everything. Their shoelaces glowed in the black-light. In some areas, so did their teeth and the whites of their eyes. The whole place was a cheesy, adorable sort of scary that felt so good after all the truly terrifying things they'd seen.

John was just barely winning, and Rodney had just made a hole-in-one around four cleverly placed tombstones.

They came to a giant dragon - definitely the coolest hole so far. Also the most dependent on blind luck: if you got around the fire you had to put the ball into the dragon's mouth and hope that it left the tip of the tail at a good angle.

Rodney spent several minutes studying the set-up before allowing John to try.

"It wouldn't be fair if you just swing and hope for the best while I'm over here strategizing. This way you have just as much time to think as I do," Rodney said, and then waved his hands in a shooing motion. "Okay, okay, go ahead Colonel."

It was spoken casual and habitual, but the mention of his rank made his hands shake.

Hopefully Rodney didn't notice why it took him five tries to finish the dragon. John didn't regain his cool until Rodney made it in three and took the lead with an undignified victory howl.

"Oh it is SO on! You didn't think I'd be good at this, did you? But just look at me now, Sheppard; I will be your doom!" he crowed as they hopped over to the next hole.

John might have played a little less well from then on. Just enough to keep hearing that gleeful arrogance, but not enough to rouse suspicion.

And when Rodney won, John frowned just enough that Rodney bought him a stuffed Frankenstein's monster as a consolation prize.

"He looks like you," Rodney said, and declared the toy to be named Sheppenstein. "You better not leave him on Earth!" he warned as they stepped out into the world, sunlight washing into their light-starved eyes.

John couldn't think of anything else he owned that he would prefer bringing to Atlantis over this eight-inch beanbag monster, so he just smiled and nodded, tilting his face upwards to drink in Earth's sun.

-

When John was small and his brother Dave was already an asshole, their mother taught him about sticks and stones. He took it to heart back then, but later he realized that her motive was entirely selfish. "Don't come crying to me about your brother unless you're bleeding" was the message between the lines.

Still, John grew up to be little fazed by words. He became deft with sarcasm and practiced smiles in response to any insult, and it all felt great because he knew there would be no injury.

John knew that he'd eventually have to confront Rodney about this weird, thrilling, unavoidable thing between them. Or at least talk about his unsuccessful, unconsciously-driven not-quite-a-kiss. And based on past experience he knew that no matter the outcome, he would come out unscathed - because words had failed to hurt him for thirty years now.

Even though something deep inside told him that Rodney was different - that this would be the rejection to end them all, that this would be end of something soft and tentative and addicting - he wasn't afraid.

He was just waiting for Rodney to bring it up first.

-

It had already been two weeks, meaning one week since the not-kiss they didn't talk about, and three more weeks until John had to fly Atlantis back home.

Wasn't that a funny thought? The city itself was the important part of their new idea of home, but it wasn't the same without that distance from Earth. The newly reconstructed Midway Station made the journey relatively short, but no one ever forgot about the vast, empty gap between the two galaxies.

Not to mention that Terre Navo, the carefully chosen home planet for Atlantis, was far on the other edge of the Pegasus Galaxy. They'd decided to sacrifice proximity in favor of settling on the most promising uninhabited planet discovered thus far.

John hadn't been part of the expedition to find a new planet, so he'd only heard about the place through the mission reports and the grape-vine. The same could be said for Rodney.

So it was no surprise that their conversation eventually fell upon Terre Navo. It was the first time in a while that they'd spoken of anything extra-terrestrial.

"I'm going to be allergic to everything on Terre Navo, you know. I can just see it now. I mean, I've allegedly 'harassed' maybe half the team that found it, so I'm pretty much screwed here," Rodney lamented. He'd been complaining about John's dusty guest room when the thought had struck him.

John wasn't sure how he felt about the change of subject. As much as he loved Atlantis and wanted to go back to her, he had a hard time looking forward to the end of their little vacation, which had already been more wonderful than he'd ever dared to wish for.

"They had orders to find a planet suitable for everybody, Rodney, even you. You've read the reports; you've seen the pictures. How can you even think about whining about this planet?" John asked incredulously.

Terre Navo was basically a paradise planet. Every sort of climate represented in perfection, with a variety of landscapes and a beautiful balance of land, ocean, and freshwater lakes and rivers. Hardly any dangerous species of wildlife and only a couple poisonous vines, with lots of attractive and/or edible plants and animals. And the flowers... Gigantic (some larger than people!), colorful, and supposedly hypo-allergenic.

The Terre Navo Project had already spent a year on the planet, studying specimens and exploring to determine long-term viability. They'd given a preliminary green light, which meant they were almost clear to go. Although there was no guarantee that they wouldn't eventually have to pack up and leave if further study came up with something more sinister.

But everyone had high hopes for the project. Especially those planning on joining the colony.

John hadn't really put much thought into it until now, and he started to feel a little excited despite himself.

"Oh please. The place is way too good to be true. I've actually already got some money on us having to evacuate within the first six months," Rodney scoffed.

John couldn't help but grin as he passed Rodney a beer from the fridge. They were standing in the kitchen - John had just finished the dishes. Before the talk of Terre Navo, Rodney had been keeping him company with a one-sided, egocentric conversation. It was delightful and strangely domestic and John felt a little light-headed about it. Thus, the beer.

"How very optimistic of you," he teased.

Rodney's face lit up and he raised a finger to wag at him in agreement as he said:

"Yes! That's what I said! There are a couple guys who're saying it'll only be a matter of weeks. And get this: Kavanagh says it'll only take three days! Really, three days? They've already been on the planet for a year and that idiot thinks just three days will be enough to discover a fatal flaw that magically no one else had noticed? I told him he was delusional and the man looked like he wanted to hit me. He's seriously a Neanderthal! I've been trying to tell the SGC that we need to be much more selective with the personnel roster this time around seeing as we are _colonizing_ and we'll all have to live with each other for the rest of our lives, but no-oo-oo. They want Kavanagh! Or maybe they just don't want him on Earth."

There was a pause. Rodney seemed to like this idea.

"That must be it!" he declared, and then started talking about all the ways in which he was superior to the other scientist.

But John wasn't really listening. He was still stuck on what Rodney had said about the colony.

"You're not planning on ever moving back to Earth?" John interrupted, needing to know. 'For the rest of their lives', Rodney had said!

John knew almost certainly that he would stay in Atlantis for as long as he was allowed. And even if they kicked him out, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to return to Earth. Maybe for vacation once and a while... But how do you go back to a normal life after having lived in _space_? He would never understand Dr. Keller's decision to give up both space travel _and_ Rodney.

The look on Rodney's face told him that he felt the same way, at least about Atlantis.

"They're going to have to use bodily force to keep me on Earth for very long."

John relaxed at this affirmation. He wasn't sure if anything would ever really happen between them, but as long as Rodney was around... As long as Rodney still wanted to drink beer with him, have lunch with him, play stupid games with him... As pathetic as it made John feel, that would be enough.

-

Three days later John decided that they'd already done everything worthwhile within driving distance of his apartment.

They'd played laser tag, gone to the museum, tried every restaurant... Rodney had even allowed himself to be dragged on a day trip on one of John's favorite hiking trails. He bitched the entire time and had to be bribed with junk food every half hour, but the look on his face when they reached the cliff overlooking the valley was more than worth it.

John was amazed that even after spending years traveling to exotic planets, this little piece of home was still just as breathtakingly beautiful to him. And to Rodney, too, John had thought as he studied Rodney's enraptured profile.

"Great view, huh?" he asked, inexplicably pleased with himself.

Rodney just nodded dumbly as John guided him to the boulder at the tree line which had served as a Nature-provided bench for generations of picnickers, stoners, and lovers alike.

"I guess this was worth the sweat, blood and tears I shed to get up here," Rodney conceded a few minutes later. With a sandwich in hand he was a lot more personable.

John smiled and handed Rodney a Slim Jim. He literally had Rodney eating out of the palm of his hand, and he was certain that for all of his genius, the man had no idea.

Rodney's obvious pleasure as he ate was giving John a sharp sort of exhilaration that he could feel under his ribs, and in his throat... An excitement that seemed to be bubbling up, threatening to burst and send John flying in a thousand directions.

'What am I even doing, here?' he wondered.

He spent the rest of the day trying to convince himself that he wasn't getting in too deep. For all that Rodney hadn't freaked when John had sprung the threat-of-a-kiss upon him, there could be no guarantee that he hadn't just been trying to let John down easy.

There had been absolutely no mention of it since then, and while Rodney hadn't ever acted awkward or uncomfortable about it, John's hopefulness had been fading.

He knew that he should just talk to Rodney and get it over with. It was just conversation, just words - he would survive it without a scratch or even a sore muscle. It was the responsible thing to do.

But John was perversely enjoying the thrill of not knowing. He was relishing the danger of the slow flirtation that he suspected Rodney didn't even notice.

Maybe it wasn't the best course of action, he rationalized, but when did anyone ever do what they really should?

It was in this spirit that John proposed they fly to another part of the country and take a little vacation with some of the money they'd never need in space. He wasn't sure where he wanted to go, but he was prepared to find something they both could enjoy.

He was caught by surprise when Rodney immediately snapped his fingers furiously.

"Yes, yes, that is brilliant! I know just the thing. We're going to Boston!"

-

It turned out that Boston was not their final destination. It wasn't bad enough that they had to fly across the country, only after missing one flight and having the other be delayed and eventually cancelled due to a fuel leak on the runway, which forced them to stay overnight at the airport before finally taking off in the early hours of the morning. No, after all that, they still had a whole other leg of the journey to go.

This Earth travel was a lot more annoying than John remembered. He preferred the Stargate. Or a Puddle Jumper - oh what he wouldn't give for a goddamn Puddle Jumper!

Well, at least they had those folding cots at the airport rather than having to sleep in chairs. And they'd flown first class, which had been nice.

But Rodney's reaction was probably what put John on edge. The delays and inconveniences had barely fazed Rodney, who normally exploded at the slightest setback. He looked too excited about his plans to stay upset for long. John, on the other hand, didn't know what the plan was, and he couldn't help it when he started to feel snappy. He wasn't used to being the grumpiest of the two of them, and try as he might, it only made his mood darker.

Rodney was in the driver's seat of their rental car, humming happily along with the radio.

They'd been on the road for two hours. John didn't think you could drive a straight line for two hours in New England without crossing a state border. Weren't these, like, the smallest states ever?

He gave voice to the question, and Rodney's response was a very undignified, unflattering snort.

Okay, maybe John was just a little anxious to find out what Rodney was planning. He'd refused to give even the tiniest hint as to their destination, except yes, it was in Massachusetts. And no, Rodney didn't need a GPS, because he'd memorized the route off of Mapquest and had brought a highway map just in case. The map was very well hidden, so don't bother.

"Besides, you think I'm stupid enough to have circled our destination in red ink? It's all up here," Rodney gloated, tapping a finger to his temple.

John glared at him and slumped down in the passenger's seat. He'd grown accustomed to being the one planning their excursions, and he felt unexpectedly adrift. Plus, he'd never been a very good passenger, even when he knew where he was going, and Rodney knew it. He almost thought that Rodney was keeping everything a secret just so John wouldn't be able to drive.

'That would be so typical,' he seethed, his arms crossed.

He was several minutes into his silent decimation of Rodney's character when they finally arrived at their hotel in Agawam, Massachusetts.

Agawam. It was a medium-sized, unassuming and somewhat rural town, and John had never heard of it.

"Where the hell are we, Rodney?" John spit out in his low, warning voice.

Rodney only shushed him and went to check them in, letting John take care of the suitcases.

"You're damn lucky I pack light, McKay!" he called after the infuriating man.

-

A half hour later when John was resting on his hotel bed drinking a Pepsi, right next to Rodney's hotel bed, he felt much better and less like murdering someone.

Rodney came in from the bathroom and flopped down face first onto his bed. Which was right next to John's bed.

Yeah, he felt much better.

When Rodney finally lifted his head from the crisp white sheets, John was grinning like a madman.

"Well, that's quite a drastic change of mood. I'm flattered that you like the hotel but unfortunately this isn't the end of the road, Skippy. Ten more minutes and then we have to get going. As much as I would love to just fall asleep right here until it's time for room service later..." Rodney said, pulling himself up to sit with his back against the headboard, which was attached to Rodney's hotel bed.

Which was right next to John's hotel bed.

"What, you're not looking forward to going... Wherever we're going?" John asked, schooling his expression into something slightly less maniacal, but probably still disproportionately pleased.

"No, it's going to be fantastic, but I already despair for my feet. And my sanity," Rodney said vaguely.

John could practically hear the unexpressed diatribe of anticipated displeasures the day would bring, which Rodney was bravely holding in to preserve the mystery.

"So we'll be walking a lot," John ventured, although he'd already guessed as much after Rodney had insisted that John pack his most comfortable shoes. He'd wanted to snap that he wasn't a woman, that all of his shoes were comfortable. But then he'd figured he didn't mind playing the role of 'girlfriend being whisked away on a surprise vacation by Rodney McKay'. He'll take what he can get, thank you very much.

"Yes, lots of walking. To tell the truth, I have a horrible feeling about this... Listen, once we get there, I don't want you dragging me all over the place until I collapse with exhaustion or dehydration. We'll go at _my_ pace," Rodney said as he put his shoes back on. "And that's all I'm saying about that."

It was cool. John liked surprises, but not nearly as much as he loved watching Rodney try to keep a secret.

He pretended to have lost his sunscreen, just so he could have a few extra minutes of Rodney tapping his foot and biting his tongue.

-

With all the signs along the road indicating how to get to Springfield, John wondered if maybe that was where they were going. Springfield, at least, was both a major city and somewhere that John had actually heard of. (Although he didn't think the Simpsons live in Massachusetts.)

Rodney noticed him watching the road signs and sighed an adorably exasperated sigh.

"Fine, ruin the surprise - see if I care!" he huffed.

"So why didn't we get a hotel in the city?" John asked, but he tore his eyes from the road and kept his gaze inside the car.

"I stayed in Springfield once, and I refuse to repeat that little experiment," was all Rodney would say. John couldn't tell if there was really a story behind that one, or if Rodney had merely known that if they'd gone to a large hotel in the city, John would find some sort of dead giveaway as to their destination. He didn't want John looking at the road signs, after all.

Not that John ended up needing signs to figure it out. Miles before they'd even arrived, John could see them - rising, twisted and gleaming, over the horizon.

"Roller coasters!" he shouted, because what the hell! Why didn't he think of that? "Why didn't I think of that?"

Rodney had a smug little smile on his lips, but he kept his eyes on the road. "I don't know, but I'm glad you didn't. Would have ruined the whole -" he stopped abruptly, blushing.

John's heart fluttered ridiculously, but he didn't push to find out what Rodney was going to say - not because of the lump in his throat, but because _hello_, roller coasters!

"Why here? Where are we?"

"This is Six Flags New England, obviously. I don't see how you didn't catch on before now. I mean, where else would I take you in New England? To see some covered bridges? Go check out the tall ships at Mystic Seaport?"

"But why _here_?" John repeated. It's not like they didn't have tons of amusement parks on the West Coast.

"Well, they have a really good roller coaster."

-

It wasn't until they were parked and through the line at the entrance that Rodney finally explained.

"The big purple one is Bizarro, but until this year it was called Superman: Ride of Steel. That thing has been voted best roller coaster by various coaster fan communities for a few years now. And the past three years it's won the Golden Ticket Award from Amusement Today," Rodney rattled off as they made their way down Main Street towards the Flash Pass building.

Rodney paid for the both of them, waving John away with an impatient hand when he tried to offer his wallet. They walked away with a Tamagotchi which would supposedly inform them when they would be able to cut in front of everyone in line for certain rides, which was pretty much just _awesome_.

"This is awesome," John said as they headed into Crack-Axle Canyon to their first ride, which turned out not to be a roller coaster at all, but a giant spinning pendulum called the Tomahawk.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Rodney declared.

-

Rodney cross-examined every single ride attendant, without fail.

Had they been on the ride? How many times? When was the last time it was inspected? _What time_ this morning? How fast did it go? Had anyone ever died or been injured while on this ride, and when? Was there a thorough investigation and subsequent change to the safety features?

And so on. John knew that it was probably a miracle that Rodney was willing to strap himself inside of something so fast and so high off the ground in the first place, so he didn't remind him that hundreds of people came through the park every day, and just because some fat guy fell off Bizarro a couple years ago because he didn't fit in the seat didn't mean that the entire park is cursed.

But harassing the attendants seemed to be more of a ritual to calm Rodney's fears than actual interrogation, so John just stood by and flashed apologetic grins at the poor college kids doing their summer jobs, who had to spend all day watching other people have fun only to be rewarded by a memorable encounter with Rodney McKay.

Rodney ended up getting on the ride every time, although he looked a little pale when they were being strapped into their car on the Cyclone.

The Cyclone was a wooden roller coaster over a hundred feet tall. The white support beams had chipped paint and rattled somewhat ominously.

John waited until they started moving and it was too late to change their minds to ask, "How old do you think this thing is, anyway?"

The look of panic on Rodney's face was well worth the retaliation he could expect later.

"Oh my God, I totally forgot to ask that one! How can I be so stupid? Oh my God it must be like a hundred years old, at least! Oh my God, oh my God," he repeated at they approached the first hill.

It turned out to be the coolest wooden coaster John had ever ridden, although the car banged them around so hard that they both got off the ride with a monstrous headache and several bruises.

"My head is going to be pounding all day, just you watch," Rodney began when they stopped outside the entrance to plan their next move.

"Here, let me -" John interrupted, turning so they were face-to-face. Heart pounding, he put his hands on either side of Rodney's head and started gently rubbing Rodney's temples with his fingertips. He could scarcely believe his own boldness, but Rodney only sighed happily and reached for his map, so John breathed in a deep, shaky breath and continued.

Rodney kept on bitching about the brutality of rickety ancient roller coasters, but his face was flushed with pleasure as he scanned his map for a place to eat lunch. John attributed it to the excitement of the ride.

After a few moments he realized that Rodney eyes had stopped moving, and had even begun to drift closed. John allowed himself a moment to stare at the gentle slope of Rodney's nose and the curve of his mouth before pressing a final stroke with his thumbs above Rodney's ears, and then ruffled his hair and pulled back.

"Hey!" Rodney protested as his eyes snapped back open. "Not interested in the John Sheppard tousled look, thanks!" He patted his hair back down and tucked his map away.

"I feel like pizza, don't you?" Rodney asked. John gestured for him to lead the way.

And if it took until they reached Primo Pizza and made their order for Rodney's face to return to its normal color, John didn't even want to know what _he'd_looked like.

-

At around four o'clock they decided to take a break from the high-speed stuff and try something more relaxing.

"How about that ski lift thing that goes along the wire over the park?" John had suggested.

"To the New England Skyway it is!" Rodney declared, and they were off.

The compartments were spherical, and could easily fit six people. They had no problem securing one for themselves, though. Rodney sat down directly across from him, and stayed seated until they were pushed off the platform and started rising higher above the park.

Then Rodney did something that John never would have expected in a million years: he scooted around the cabin until he was sitting right next to John.

John held his breath, but Rodney just pressed his left side into John's body, his warm weight against John's shoulder, smiling happily at him.

"This is cool, right?" he asked.

John wasn't sure what Rodney was asking about. The view? The invasion of his personal space? Either way, all he could do was nod wordlessly.

Rodney's grin was blinding. John tried to relax his body, and as they slowly glided across the sky and Rodney pointed out the attractions they still had to visit, it became steadily easier. He leaned back into Rodney and enjoyed the moment.

From their cabin they could see the entire park, but they had a particularly good view of the Looney Tunes area and the families with children flittering about directly underneath them.

Rodney put his hand on John's thigh to steady himself as he peered over the edge at the crowd below.

Rather than faint or do something equally embarrassing with Rodney's wide hand burning through his pants leg, John said, "You think we could spit on them?"

Rodney pulled himself back upright and removed his hand, looking at John incredulously.

"Are you serious? I should have known you were one of those types of people," he said.

John just shrugged and gave an innocent smile. "Gotta get my kicks somehow, right?"

"What, this excursion isn't entertaining enough for you that you have to traumatize children?"

John teased Rodney all the way until they made it to the other end, pretending to lean over the edge to attack the masses just so Rodney would have to pull John back down next to him every time.

-

John had always enjoyed roller coasters, because they were fast and tall and sometimes felt like flying. Or falling, anyway, which was almost as cool. He'd been to plenty of amusement parks in his life, but there was something about being with Rodney that made it ten times better. Maybe he was being sentimental, but he supposed it was a little late in the game to worry about letting his _feelings_ affect his judgment. That train had left the station long ago.

After watching Rodney spend a solid five minutes silently eyeing the Scream freefall tower from the walkway before finally heading to the line, John wondered if Rodney was doing all this just to please him.

"Hey buddy, we don't have to do this one if you don't feel like it," John said, putting a hand on his upper arm to stop him.

Rodney turned and looked him in the eye, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, then shook his head resolutely. "We're doing this one. Come on."

Five minutes later, their socked feet were dangling uselessly and their shoes were in a cubby near the exit. The ride consisted of three separate towers, and they were on the one that both rocketed them upwards and dropped them back down at what looked like an impossibly high speed. Nobody kept their shoes on.

John looked over at Rodney and saw that he was the palest he'd been all day. (The sun was out in full force, so that was saying something.)

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, nudging Rodney's foot with his own.

Rodney looked at John's foot, and then at his face. His eyes were wide with fear, but he smiled bravely. "I am so ready for this," he lied, in that deliberately ironic way which conveyed the exact opposite.

John laughed and reached for Rodney's hand, which had been holding on to his shoulder support with white knuckles. He tugged it until their hands were equidistant between their bodies, and then squeezed it tightly.

"This is so awesome, Rodney," he said sincerely, and it's the closest thing to the truth that he can manage.

Rodney's expression softened slightly, changing from petrified to merely terrified. John, on the other hand, felt more scared than he could ever remember being.

"I'm really glad you like it, John," he answered, rubbing his thumb on the back of John's hand.

The thrill John gets from being catapulted twenty stories into the air is nothing compared to how it feels to have Rodney's fingernails dig into his skin, holding John's hand in a death grip even as he laughs uncontrollably the entire ride.

-

John loved the Flashback, which descended and went through loops and turns before doing it all over again in reverse, with the cars facing backwards. And he _really_ loved the Batman, which was a huge floorless coaster. But he'd really been looking forward to Bizarro, which was the main reason Rodney had brought him here. They'd saved it for last. Now that the moment had come, John wished he could hit rewind on the entire day and play it back all over again before finally coming to the end.

"It doesn't quite go 200 miles per hour, but it's 208 feet tall and has a 221-foot drop!" Rodney was telling him as they used their passes to zip to the front of the line.

"Hey, if it's won a Golden Ticket Award, that's all the convincing I need!" John said.

Rodney squinted at him as if searching for any traces of mockery. John only smiled. He might have recently suffered other lapses of self-control, but at least his ability to covertly make fun of Rodney was unaffected.

"Okay, whatever. You had better enjoy this," Rodney said. He peered nervously down the track before settling into his seat. John sat beside him, fastened himself in, and let the attendant cut off his circulation with the tightening of the restraints.

"Yeah, I don't think there's any danger of _us_ falling to our deaths here," Rodney complained as they began to move, shifting in his seat against the bars to try to get comfortable.

"Just enjoy the ride, Rodney," John advised. Rodney nodded and took a deep breath.

They slowly climbed the first and highest hill - the one with the drop of doom. As they rose and rose, they had spectacular view of the Connecticut River and surrounding forests to their left. It was the end of the day, and to their right the sun was beginning its descent, spilling soft golden light over the landscape and making the sky and clouds an almost otherworldly mix of pink, orange and blue.

John took in the beauty of the scenery before glancing at Rodney - only to find the other man gazing at him. He seemed transfixed, mesmerized.

At first, John thought that maybe Rodney was just avoiding looking down so he wouldn't panic. His heart must not have agreed, because it was beating a wild rhythm against his chest.

"It's beautiful up here, Rodney. It's okay - look around," he nudged him.

Rodney shook his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Oh, I already did. But there's nothing for miles around that compares to this."

John's breath hitched. What was Rodney saying? John didn't know where this was going, but he felt like they'd been leading up to it all day - for weeks, years, even - and he didn't want to have this sort of conversation. He didn't need to! This had been the most amazing day he'd ever had, and he didn't need any stupid, awkward, inadequate _words_ to come and mess it up!

And okay, maybe he _was_ afraid of what Rodney would say. Maybe he didn't want to find out once and for all how this would end, because what if Rodney didn't feel the same, or what if Rodney felt the same but didn't want to get involved, or _what if_ Rodney wanted something more than John was capable of even giving?

"You didn't ask the attendant any questions," John blurted.

They were almost at the crest of the hill. Even with Rodney's intense gaze distracting him, he started to feel the familiar rush of anticipation at the impending drop. Still, his heart wasn't in his throat and his palms weren't sweating because of some roller coaster. Only Rodney made him feel this way - and the combination of the two stimulants made his head spin.

"I already know everything I need to know," Rodney replied, taking John's hand in his own. John knew that he wasn't talking about the ride.

Rodney smiled at him knowingly, like he could see inside John's frantic mind, and raised John's hand to his lips and kissed his palm reverently. "And so do you," he assured him.

_Of course_ Rodney, sweet and clever Rodney, would understand how to make this work. He was "bad with people", after all, and a genius, and John loved him _so_ much.

And then somehow, all at once, the fear that John had been consumed with for so long was lifted away by the wind and carried down the river, leaving John breathless and grateful, so grateful.

John realized that he was grinning. Rodney's smile was just as bright, and he turned John's hand over to kiss the back, too; and that was all they had time for before they fell two hundred and twenty one feet into the most awesome two minutes of John's entire life.

THE END


End file.
